-| Two Monks Story |-

"In a famous Zen story two monks are walking together and come to a river. A beautiful woman is standing there trying to figure out how to get across. The older monk offers to help and picks her up and carries her. Later, as the two monks resume their stroll, the younger says, 'I thought we weren't supposed to have contact with women.' The older monk replies, 'I put the woman down long ago, but you're still carrying her.'

"The lesson usually drawn from this story is, do what you have to do and move on. From a typical spiritual point of view, the monk picks up the woman and then lets go. No attachments, no complications, no worries.

"But disturbing reflection can be a good thing. Even inner conflict and worry inspire the need to sort things out. In my interpretation of the story, the young monk who can't stop thinking about the woman would become the teacher. He's more human and has the capacity to carry his experiences for a long time and worry about them. In a way, the story contrasts spirit and soul, and I favor the soulful young man."Thomas Moore, Pg. 115

It was a refreshing and a relief to read this excerpt this morning. I've heard this story a few times and I've always looked at it from the spiritual point of view. I'm glad Thomas Moore gave us his perspective from the soul's point of view. I spent a lot of my childhood worrying and full of inner conflict, and to have a licensed psychologist acknowledge that this it isn't a genetice defect or something that needs to be fixed is a huge relief.

-| Hope |-

Lately, I've been thinking about a quote by the Alan Watts.
Here is the quote: "... modern civilization is in almost every respect a vicious circle. It is insatiably hungry because its way of life condemns it to perpetual frustration. ... the future is still not here, and cannot become part of experienced reality until it is present. Since what we know of the future is made up of purely abstract and logical elements -- inferences, guesses, deductions -- it cannot be eaten, felt, smelled, seen, heard, or otherwise enjoyed. To pursue it is to pursue a constantly retreating phantom, and the faster you chase it, the faster it runs agead. This is why all the affairs of civilization are rushed, why hardly anyone enjoys what they have, and is forever seeking more and more. Happiness, then, will consist not of solid and substantial realities, but of such abstract and superficial things as promises, hopes, and assurances." Alan Watts, in The Wisdom of Insecurity, 1951 

I've heard many people say they are happy because they have hope. But isn't hope as Watt's says some "abstract and superficial thing" we cling to get through our days? How can you be happy with something that is abstract and not real? 

-|Magic|-

I don’t think I can ever be a writer. You know like the ones who can conjure a superb story - weave it to create layers, length and transport you to an altogether different world.

My first favorite writer was Enid Blyton. I love her; still do – for her writing, for the magic and for helping me create my love for books. My parents have read me many books before I could start reading on my own – for they are avid readers as well. They inculcated and nurtured the habit of reading, referring and interpretation.

My first impression of a book is a hard bound copy of ‘The Famous Five’. I have read it innumerable times - imagined and lived that part of the group where we solved the mysteries. I never liked dogs back then but I used to pretend that I love them – well, the Famous Five wasn’t complete without the dog!

I used to impatiently wait for the library class every week where we weren’t allowed to borrow more than one book! I was utterly delighted when my parents enrolled me to another library which was in the neighbourhood– where I could borrow 3 books at a time  - and it’s added bonus – I could go to the market on my own! ( Now that was a big thing for a 7 year old !!! )

I have read many authors – both of Indian and foreign origins. Some were able to create that magic, some weren’t. 

- | Colour or absence of it  |-

October 2014, Tacoma, WA, USA 

-|Nothing wrong with me! |-

I hadn't planned it this way. I have always been open to love and relationships. I have held on to hope and to expectations and to dreams and to grief and to men I should have let go of much sooner. I have been high on love and tip-toed on top of clouds. And I've lost my breath under a dark cloud, wondering why it's so hard for me to have the long, meaningful relationship I deserve.

I am at an airport where I meet this long lost friend, a little annoyed for delayed flight but happy to catch up with him after so many years .  I'm focused on the moment I'm in right now. This is life. This is my life. And notwithstanding it not turning out the way I had expected, my life is beyond my expectations. I have chosen to live my life to its potential, and I've never felt better about myself or more comfortable in my own skin.

We are getting to reacquaint with each other over cups of coffee (tea in my case). After some time, he has decided it's time to find out what's 'wrong' with me. And after all these years, seasons of loves and likes and not-quite-there feelings, I recognize the conversation that's about to begin.

"So are you married?" comes the expected question.

"No," I say.

"Have you come close? Like engaged or lived with someone?"

"Nope," I add.

His lips are pressed together in judgment. "When was your last long-term relationship?" , believing my answer is the answer to whether or not I want to be in a relationship. Or, perhaps more importantly, whether or not I am capable of being in one.

"It's been a while," I softly respond, noticing my own disappointment, let alone his.

"But you're attractive and smart. I can't believe you haven't had a boyfriend in a while," he says, but I know his flattery is a guise to learn the great mystery of why I'm still single. "Like how long?" he continues. "How many years?" He wants details. He wants to hear proof that he's right about his assumption that there is something wrong with me. Perhaps, he thinks, she can't commit.

"I don't even know," I say with a smile and a nonchalant shrug. And I'm being honest. I don't know.

"That's OK," he offers as consolation. "Some people aren't interested in having a serious relationship."

I immediately find myself rising up to my own defense and resent us both for having to do so. "Does it mean I'm interested in having a serious relationship if I stay in one too long because I don't know how to leave or because I can't bear to be on my own?" I ask. "I never married the wrong guy or pretended to be happy in a relationship when I wasn't. And it hasn't always been my choice for a relationship to end. I've been in love. I've wanted to be in love forever. My heart has been broken," I add.

He is relieved at this last note. My black-and-blued heart is proof to him that I've gone to battle for love. But I'm more focused on the fact that I've survived and have moved forward than on the battles I've lost.

"So, what's the issue?" he asks. "I can't believe you would still be single. You must be picky."

It occurred to me that he  will keep trying to deduce what's wrong with me until he hits the jackpot.

"Of course I'm picky," I say with confidence. "I want to be in love with the man I'm with and he deserves to be loved. If being 'picky' means I won't settle for a lesser love, then you are right: I'm picky."

Our conversation moves on to our respective careers. He goes first, and I'm sincerely impressed. And then I share my work and the profile that I have trying to work upon for the last eight years. But for him, he's not so much interested in my work, but in how my career might be the root-cause of my singlehood.

"Some people choose to focus on their careers and some choose to have families," he says emphatically, making the assumption that because I haven't had a family, I've made my choice.

"I didn't choose to have a career over falling in love, getting married and having children," I reply, my voice again slightly raised. "I can control many aspects of my career, but I cannot choose when and with whom I fall in love and who returns the love to me. I didn't plan to be single or not to have children."

"I have a friend who admits she spent too much time focused on her career and not her dating life," he says, like it's a diagnosis: "Career-Womanitis."

"Women don't often forget to fall in love. They don't often forget to have children. Sure, time passes faster than we'd all prefer, but if someone wants to be in a relationship, and most women do, then we find a way to do that when a man who wants the same thing is present in our lives," I reply. "Women are better multitaskers than men are in general, so I don't buy into the 'too focused on career' script modern women have been given instead of the truth: Despite having a great career and taking care of ourselves financially, while also taking care of our health and well-being, we haven't met the man we're meant to be with."

"Maybe you're too independent," he suggests, more to himself as he looks down his mental list of possible reasons for my singlehood.

"I'm independent," I reply. "But that doesn't mean I can't be dependent on someone else for a change. We keep hearing about how women should 'lean in.' I am leaning in so far that I'm falling over. I don't have a net, emotionally or financially, to fall back on. What I would do to be able to lean back for once. What I would do to have a man in my life whom I could count on when times are tough..."

He is running out of arguments. I'm running out of patience.

"If you spend the rest of our time until flight is announced,searching for what's wrong with me, you'll never discover what's right with me," I say, trying to soothe us both into another topic of conversation. "I have no regrets. I'm living a life I never dreamed of in many respects. Yes, I wanted to be married and become a mom in my twenties, but here I am with all my bumps and bruises, still in the ring, unwilling to give up on love."

He seems satisfied, at least for now, and we begin to chat about other things. As our flight is announced, he gives me a hug and we promise each other to be in touch. 

I smile back as I settle in my seat - In this frenzy of match-the woman-to-the-man, we have forgotten about the multitude of relationships that can exist in the world. My ' single status' has given me an opportunity to explore the intricacies of my individuality while celebrating the friends, soul mates, adventurers, comrades, mischief makers, mentors and sisters in my life. 

And I am never going to apologize for the life I have created for myself. 

-| Surprises |-

When was the last time you surprised or delighted a customer, colleague or boss?

If you did, would it help?

Apple developed a tradition of secrecy largely because Steve saw the extraordinary value in surprising the audience. It creates a rare wave of excitement--remarkable is a byproduct of surprise. Today, they continue to work at the secrecy, as if that's the only element necessary to create surprise.

But of course, it's not.

Surprise comes from defying expectations. Sometimes, we have the negative surprises that come from missing those expectations, but in fact, those negative surprises are part of the process of exceeding them... if you're not prepared to live with a disappointment, you can't be in the business of seeking delight.

Effort matters, sure, but mostly surprise comes from caring enough about your clients that you're willing to fail in your effort to redefine what they expect from you. The vulnerability and intimacy that come from that leap are at the heart of what people talk about.

-| sea breeze|-

6 June 2014 
on the beaches of Arrossim, Goa 
with my favorite set of girls